The Illusionist
by pompom1124
Summary: Alfred's coming home late with a strange aroma, weird hotel bills are popping up, and Alfred's been acting really weird. His fiance, Arthur, is convinced everything has a reason, he just can't find a reasonable reason for Alfred's strange actions. Exept the instance where Alfred is cheating. But there's no way he'd do anything so stupid... right?
1. Chapter 1

Arthur knew there was something wrong the moment Alfred gave him a quick hug in the kitchen and left to his office. The hug, of course, was not the problem. Neither was the fact that Arthur was cooking.

Well...Maybe.

The main problem was the fact that Alfred had a strange odor following him. Not the sweaty B.O. or the usual fast food drive-through scent, but a cologne. Sure Alfred would occasionally spray Axe here and there, maybe even Angel, but the scent that invaded Arthur was much more muskier, much more manlier. And expensive. Arthur sighed and shook his head. This was the fifth time this month, Alfred had smelled of a rich, luxurious, pimp like man. Earlier on he would have said, 'Oh he was probably passing through the perfume section at Macy's'.

The Brit bit his lip and turned off the oven. He took off his mittens and decided that he would not doubt Alfred. Right after a quick wardrobe search.

xxxxxxx

After Alfred had gone to sleep, Arthur went into the walk in closet and looked at his partner's side of the closet. Picking each pocket, he came up with candy wrappers, worthless lottery tickets, and a phone number. Throwing the rest away, he dialed the number, his hand trembling. On the second ring, someone picked up and Arthur held his breath.

"Vargas Pizza Parlor how may I help you?"

Arthur quickly hung up and groaned in embarrassment. What else would he expect from Alfred no less? He shouldn't spend his only day off like this. The blondie ripped the paper and threw it in a small waste basket, remembering that Vargas was the last name of one of his coworker's lover. Those twins were great cooks, of course Alfred would have their number stored. Arthur pinched his nose and sighed. He then turned to Alfred, who was fast asleep, his arm covering the empty space where Arthur was supposed to be.

Maybe it was all in his head.

-xxxxxxxx

Today, everyone from every division were to assemble at the International Technology Institute, or ITI for short, meeting room. There were three divisions, each representing a continent in which an ITI business was stationed. Then, for every country where an ITI business was found, a representative was hired. They had to be born in said country. If a nation happens to be in the lead for ITI productions, then the representative would be promoted for the next month, until the information and grossing was recalculated. ITI was more of a big industry that was made up of several companies that they ended up buying.

The meeting was lead by Yao, Alfred, and Ludwig, who were this month's winners. As usual, Ludwig was doing all, if not most, of the work. A break was soon called when Francis began to draw gigantic eyebrows on his face and Arthur threatened, 'If you draw one more bloody line, so help me I will stab your bloody eyes out with that damn pen and string your guts on my clothes line so the fucking ravens will feast on your internal organs, YOU FUCKING WANKER!'

Alfred tried to hold back a stifle and suddenly was drowning in his laughter. "Gosh Iggster, this is why I love you!" Arthur blushed as he collected his things and marched to the nearest break room with an espresso machine. Sipping on his coffee he realized he had ten minutes to spare. Placing the cup on the table, he looked through his notes and couldn't help but snort at the fact that he was doubted Alfred. Throwing away the plastic cup, Arthur walked out of the break room and saw the BTT, or as he liked to call them: The Bozo Slacker Club.

Having a bad relation with all the members, Arthur focused on the red carpet and continued to walk forward. Francis purposely bumped into the blond, causing his papers to fly all over the place. In a vain effort to pick them up, Arthur gathered his papers and sighed. What dicks. Hearing the laughter slowly diminish down the hall, the Brit stood and felt a strong fragrance wafting in the air. Arthur suddenly felt his stomach churn. It smelled exactly like the cologne scent Alfred was consecutively bringing home.

And the scent followed the trio of misfits like fleas on dog.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: The Bill

"WHAT'S FOR BREAKFAST?" Alfred yelled to Arthur, who was all the way downstairs. Even though the act of Arthur cooking just reeked of bad news, the two had created a custom where every other week on a Tuesday, starting exactly at 6:41AM, Arthur would make breakfast. Alfred had made the specifics in order to avoid food poisoning. Granted he could stomach most of Arthur's food, but just because he could didn't mean he wanted that to be the first thing he ate. Unfortunately for him, the Brit was always on time when it came for him to 'cook'. Those Tuesdays seemed to come too soon for Alfred.

"WELL I REPLACED YOUR MICROWAVABLE DOUBLE SAUSAGE BREAKFAST BURGER WITH OATMEAL AND YOUR EGGS AND BACON WITH PANCAKES AND FRUITS!" Arthur yelled back. Alfred groaned. He hurried downstairs, placed on his coat, and sat at the table. "Dude, how in the hell did you burn the oatmeal," the American grumbled, as he picked at the porridge. In return, Arthur threw a fork at him. Alfred tried to hold back the urge to vomit when the food entered his mouth. For some reason it just tasted really really bad today. Worse than usual. "Why does this taste worse than your usual of petrified couch stuffing?"

Arthur shrugged. "The ingredients are the same, I just added that special grainy flour you have in that green container all the way up in the first cabinet."

Alfred groaned and clenched his stomach. "That wasn't flour Artie. That was borax. I keep it there because- Oh shit, I think imma go outside…" The American stumbled outside and threw up in the daisies that Arthur had been planting for weeks. As he wiped his mouth he heard a snicker and an obnoxious French accent. "This is how I know it's 7:30 in the morning on a Tuesday. Well actually it's 7:15. Any reason you ran out earlier then expected?" Alfred's knees buckled as he looked up at Francis, who was on his usual morning jog before getting ready to work. "He used fucking borax dude. Borax!" Francis laughed wholeheartedly as the American finally go up. After his fit of giggles ended Francis patted his back. "I congratulate you Alfred, for actually sticking it in your mouth and trying." France paused, then laughed some more. "When I was his roommate back in the European boarding school we went to, I would throw that garbage in the trash. It's like it gets worse every day. Well for you anyway. Oh and by the way, I stuck something in your mailbox. See you at work!"

Alfred watched as the Frenchman jog away and then approached his mailbox. He looked through the mail and found a light pastel yellow with white laced invitation tucked neatly between a hotel bill and newsletter. He crumbled the hotel bill into his jacket after looking at the price and rolled up the newsletter before opening the invitation.

 _You and one guest are invited to Francis' gala. Wear something fancy. Next week at six._

He smirked. Arthur is so going to enjoy this bit of news. He walked into the living room and sat in his chair, as Arthur was happily eating a store bought waffle. This almost pissed Al off. Alfred passed him the newsletter, and Arthur wiped his mouth and mumbled a thanks. As he opened the newsletter he took out the page with the comics and handed them to Alfred. "Ooh I never saw this marmaduke comic! Heh… Uh hey babe?"

Arthur looked up in confusion. It was never like Alfred to bother him during his morning reading, whether it was the tattered newspaper or a chapter of some random novel. "Hm?"

"We're going to Francis' party next week! It's going to be flipping awesome!"

Arthur frowned. "You don't even like his parties, you complain they're too fancy. Hell, I don't even like him." Alfred shrugged. "I don't know dude, free food." Arthur rolled his eyes as he dropped his bowl in the sink. He then looked over at the American and chuckled. "The damn work jacket is dirty. You have bits of regurgitation on it."

He got up and grabbed Alfred's brown work jacket."Woah, what the hell are you doing man? " Arthur froze and stared at Alfred, who had covered his mouth, but facial expression was clear to read. It read of fear and anger. Instead of yelling at Alfred like he normally would have, the European looked at the jacket and dug his hand through every pocket until he touched a crumbled piece of paper. Arthur opened it and frowned.

"Three hundred dollars for a stay at a hotel night, with five star room service and pay per view? A week ago? All of last week you stayed at home. What is this?" Arthur said, his voice escalating quickly. Macy's came to mind.

Alfred looked at Arthur and smiled weakly. "You think I cheated don't you?"

Arthur looked at the American. "What else could this mean?"

Alfred got up and took a step forward to Arthur, who just stared him down. He knew what that step meant. It meant Alfred was bothered and anything he said was going to make or break this argument. But instead Alfred just chuckled.

"That was for Mattie."

"Who?"

"My brother."

"Since when in the bloody hell do you have a brother?"

Alfred rolled his eyes and pulled out his wallet. He pointed to a small sized baby picture that was faded and filled with scratches. "Since birth. I introduced him to you three years ago?"

"Oh I remember Matthew Williams now."

"Heh, I don't blame you. Even I forget that he's around sometimes. Anyway I bought him the hotel room. It was ITI's monthly global check remember? Headquarters are here in the states, so Mattie needed a hotel. I offered to pay for the hotel closest to the company. It also happened to be the most expensive."

Arthur looked at the American, suspicion written all over his face.

"So then why did you yell at me?"

"I didn't want you to see the bill so I was on edge. In fact, I didn't want you see it mainly because I was afraid you'd get the wrong idea. And I was right. That's why I yelled."

Arthur sighed. Of course. He always had a bad temper so whenever he argued with Alfred, Alfred would yell back. Sometimes Alfred would yell at him right when he saw the enraged look on his face.

"Here." Arthur mumbled, digging his wallet out of his pockets and handing his lover $150.00.

"What's this for?"

"I'm helping you pay for the hotel room, as recompense for my uh...inappropriate accusation." Alfred eyed the money. There was a look in his eye, one where he didn't want Arthur's cash involved whatsoever with this hotel bill. In the end he reluctantly accepted it.

"Thanks babe. Now cmon let's get ready for work! This hero is never late for work and I'm not starting today!" Alfred yelled rather loudly. Arthur rolled his eyes and muttered "Give me five minutes to eat breakfast." Alfred nodded and started the car. He looked at the bill and stuck it into the glove department. Then he eyed the money given to him and rested his head on the wheel. "I have to be more careful next time," he grumbled.

"Arthur isn't going to fall for every story I make."

 **I'm going to try to be more consistent guys. Sorry. Hopefully my writing has improved.**


	3. Chapter 3

When Alfred had gotten to his office he had found two letters on his desk. He frowned at the envelopes. These letters were usually filled with pink slips, demotions, transfers, the usual pains. Honestly, an office job wasn't his dream job, but the benefits made him stay. He threw himself into the swivel chair and bumped his head on the wall, earning angry grumbles from his german co worker, Ludwig, who was on the other side.

"I'd appreciate it if you'd stop acting like you're on a constant sugar rush."

Alfred rolled his eyes. "I know the top producers have to be grouped together, but I'd rather sit next to Yao and hear his raging insults rather than an angry German who constantly has a stick up his-"

Alfred stopped as soon as Ludwig stood up and stared him down. He quickly turned back to his desk and did some paperwork before opening the first envelope.

 _Movie day after Francis party? -K_

Alfred smiled slightly then sighed when he looked at the snapshot of Arthur taped to the edge of his computer screen. Then he looked at the note. Then back at the snapshot. Then back at the note.

' _Technically, it's not cheating. All we do is hug and give each other quick kisses behind our lovers' back… Yeah it's not like we're screwing each other…. Plus it's a sort of benefit type of thing, not a relationship. So technically I'm in the right_. _Therefore I should totally go to the movies._..' Alfred thought as he opened the other letter. As his eyes quickly scanned over it, his happiness drained from his face.

 _Dear Mr. Jones,_

 _We have unfortunately noticed that your sales have been plummeting. We urge you to get your grip back on your division. In the meantime, you have been demoted to regional assistant. Your new supervisor shall be Mr. Matthew Williams, beginning tomorrow._

 _Hopefully you shall be more motivated to keep sales in the future._

 _Cordially,_

 _R. Vargas_

 _ITI CEO_

Alfred crumbled the paper up, and pressed his temples hard. Matthew didn't even want the job! He wanted to quit for awhile now so he could delve more time into his new novel. With this promotion, Matthew would reluctantly take the job just because he'd feel bad turning down the offer. Alfred groaned. He threw the paper into the waste basket and slammed his fist against the counter. The pen holder rattled and spilled. Alfred sighed.

What a great day so far.

His phone pinged and he took it out in annoyance. At this point, if he was caught using his phone he didn't care.

K: hey whats wrong?

A: oh you heard the commotion….

K: half the floor heard your noise. arthur was about to go check on you.

A: how'd he know it was me?

K: you're the only doofus who hits his desk in a glass office. everyone else makes a show about it outside their cubicle. its distressing really.

A: oh please you're just as bad. and i got demoted.

K: oh really?

A: cant you help me out? U might know some people who can fix it. Can u ask around the office, maybe plead my case. if anything another supervisor/reg manager should be able to help

K: i will get in trouble. It's against protocol…

A: please bb? i'll do date night at the movies

K: you would have done that anyway. Fine.

Before Alfred could respond, he heard a grunt behind him. He hid his phone and turned around, seeing Yao standing at the entrance of his office. Yao looked at the phone and huffed as he put a strand of hair behind his ear.

"No wonder you got demoted. Typical young westerner, stuck on their phone all day."

"Aw come on Yao. Don't be like that. HEY- How'd you know I got demoted?!"

Yao rolled his eyes. "Suck balls. I'm not stupid. Why else would you be upset? Besides, Vargas told me to update the manager charts for this term. That's not why I'm here though."

"Oh have you come to admit my superior yet heroic qualities?"

"No, I came to remind your diabetic fat ass that it's time for lunch. Can't have you fainting in the middle of a presentation again just because you didn't have your Big Mac."

Alfred looked at Yao angrily. "That's not fair! Besides, you shouldn't point out my flaws! I confuse you for a chick stuck on a liquid diet of tea half the time! Seriously can you not afford a decent haircut?"

"Suck balls! Uncultured American pig!"

Alfred stuck his tongue out in victory as he organized the papers on his desk. He locked his office and walked out, heading towards Vargas' Pizza Parlor, wondering if they had added a burger topping to the menu.

Lovino looked at the blond in pure fury.

"Listen bastard, you have five minutes to sit down and stuff your fat face before I break your damn neck into a gazillion tiny pieces, understand? For the last time, NO tiramisu isn't fried dough stuffed with chocolate, NO we will not give you a discount just because you are friends with that bastard Gilbert who's friend's with that idiot Antonio who's dating me, and YES I will ban you for the rest of your damn life even if you are our best customer!"

"Lovino… I just wanted to know if you guys had fries to accompany my meatball sub…"

"ARGHHHH! FELICIANO TAKE THE DAMN REGISTER."

Feliciano walked into the front from the kitchen, sleeves rolled up and wearing an apron covered in flour. He took a rag to clean his hands and leaned against the register as his older brother pushed past him. He smiled at Alfred.

"Ve~ How's our best customer?"

"Oh not so well really. But that's work stuff and I'm on my lunch break. I was wondering about the fries…?" Alfred tilted his meal to Feliciano, who eyes the meatball sub meal intensively.

"Sorry Alfred, we ran out today. Since you paid for the meal though, I can give you any small scoop of gelato for free. Just don't tell Lovino." Feli whispered the last part, trying very hard not to be heard.

Alfred chuckled and gave him a thumbs up. "What's your bro's problem anyway? He seems crankier than usual," Alfred said in between bites.

Feliciano turned around to the tub of gelato in the freezer and picked it up, almost throwing it on the table when he set it down.

"Oh the usual. Business problems with a dash of relationship issues. Lovino really wants to start up a 'real' Italian restaurant, but no matter how many times I tell my big brother we don't have enough money just yet, he starts yelling. We have to ride it out with this parlor first." Feliciano placed the bowl next to the tub and lopped open the lid, revealing Stracciatella gelato.

"Besides, I don't want to close this parlor down yet. I have grown fond of it, even if Lovino says it's more American than Italian. I told him it be better to leave them both open, or renovate this one so it can be the parlor in the afternoon and the restaurant at night, maybe on the second floor if we make one. Of course, that's a lot of money." Feliciano took a small scoop and neatly plopped it into the plastic bowl, handing it to Alfred. "It also doesn't help that Antonio and him got into a big fight this morning, but they'll work it out. They always do. By the way how are things with you and Arthur?"

Alfred licked his finger and started to eat the icecream. "Pretty good. You and Ludwig?"

Feliciano shrugged. "He's been working a lot lately, with all the ITI deadlines and stuff. We haven't been as active, but we are still really happy together. I mean, what more can I ask for right?"

Alfred licked the bowl and nodded. He then said his goodbyes to the Italian, thanking him for everything. As he slid into the car, his phone rang and he checked the caller ID. It read K.

"Yes?"

"Good news. I talked to Matthew who talked to Vargas. He told him he was actually considering quitting so the CEO agreed to let you try to reclaim your position next month instead of the end of the term which is in four months. The catch is you have to not only convince him but you have to get your sales up to normal within that month."

"Thank you so much babe!"

"...Alfred."

"Oh right no pet names. Sorry, force of habit. Thanks again."

Alfred hung up and shoved it in his pocket, doing a little dance to celebrate. When he reached into his pockets to get the keys, he took out his wallet instead. Alfred opened it, and amidst the debit cards and discount coupons was a picture of Arthur on their second anniversary for dating and some pictures of Matthew and him when they were kids. Arthur was smiling sheepishly, trying to cover his face. Al traced the picture of Arthur and kissed it, before placing it back into his wallet. He then thought to what Feliciano said about being satisfied with his life and laughed a bit bitterly.

"We as people might not ask for more, but life can plop more into our laps, waiting for our move. And that greed… that greed in us can be more that content. It can be lust."


	4. Chapter 4

Alfred fixed his white bow and looked into the mirror. He looked rather formal in his light blue tuxedo with the black tie running down his chest, complementing the buttons. Smiling, he turned to Arthur, who was dressed in a lime silk shirt with dress pants.

"Jeez Artie, I think we switched tastes for the night. All you're missing are my slick badass cowboy boots. Yee haw!" Alfred jumped up with one arm punching the air. The remark caused Arthur to roll his eyes as he laced his dress shoes.

"I'd rather not put on those horrible representation of 1800's Western American culture. I'm going to start the car," Arthur mumbled as he walked out the room and headed downstairs. Confused, Alfred looked at the empty spot where Arthur had stood. Arthur had been moody ever since last week and it was starting to get to Alfred's head. He snapped to the American whenever a bad joke was made, he would ignore his critique on the burnt scones instead of yelling at him, and some of the 'I love you's were returned with a grunt or a half hearted reply. Alfred could only think one reasonable reason as to why.

Maybe Arthur had found out.

Alfred shook his head. He had taken many precautions, he was careful with the little situation he had going on. It was probably Arthur just being Arthur. The Brit was known to go on several mood swings, as if he was a girl who was pmsing. It wasn't that Arthur was bipolar, he just had a short temper. Of course, when used correctly that temper was very advantageous when it came to other…things. Upon hearing a series of quick yet blaring honks, the American stopped thinking about R-Rated things, unconsciously fixed his cuffs, and ran down stairs, trying not to trip over his polished dress shoes. He slid into the car and laughed.

"Jeez Artie, you almost left without me."

Arthur smiled weakly. He then sighed and opened the glove department, grabbing a bottle of cologne. The label was black with gold lettering, reading "Carefree Sins". The liquid itself was a blackish color, instead of the normal clear. It was promptly thrown at the other male, and with his hands now free, Arthur started to drive.

"Take it, one knows how much you need to stop smelling like pure alcohol when you go to these parties." It was true. Alfred's colognes were too strong with barely any actual smell to them; it was like smelling raw alcohol.

Alfred grinned and popped it open, taking a deep sniff before spraying the cologne everywhere, including the car itself. He relaxed in the passenger seat and took a large inhale, slowly exhaling the scented chemicals out of his lungs. He eyed the glass and smirked at the title, before placing it back into the glove department.

"Wow, this one smells really good. Is it new?"

Arthur stopped at a red light and looked out at the dark street, brought to life with the headlights and red blinks of other cars, complimented by the bright yellowish orange of large street lamps. There were small puddles due to the rain, but other than that the road was clear, the rumbling of the nearby motors soothing the two passengers.

"Well you have been coming home smelling differently, and I know it's not any of your usual colognes, so I rummaged through every nearby shopping outlet until I found one that smelled almost like it. It's not exact, but it's pretty close. How'd you get the new cologne anyways?" Arthur sped up at the sight of a green light, only to be interrupted by a sudden red light when he turned to the right. A sign leaned over the traffic lights, stating,

" _Traffic Lights may occasionally flicker. Please, be cautious."_

Arthur groaned. Lucky for him, the French bastard lived in the middle of nowhere so there would hopefully be no accidents. Unlucky for him, Arthur had as much patience as a fly's level of intelligence. That is to say, very little to none. He ran 5 red lights consecutively once, just because he the first one was "taking too bloody long and in that span of time my care for lawful authority was lost".

"Well, it's not mine." The green light turned on suddenly, it's light bold and accepting.

"A friend from ITI gave me a small sample as a gift. It was Toris, you know as payment for helping him when he came to the United States." The red light suddenly consumed the green light and Arthur slammed on the brakes stopping almost in the middle of the road. Their heads flew toward the dashboard, earning a sharp yelp from Alfred as he bashed his head against it. A car that probably belonged to the Vargas brothers was approaching from the right at an unholy speed, so Arthur backed up to the the front of the lane to let it pass.

"Its one of my favorites really. Yours smells almost just like it." Alfred continued, rubbing the red spot on his forehead. The light suddenly one again turned green. Arthur pressed on the accelerator too hard and almost got the bumper of another passing car who was driving rather slow. Most likely Kiku. For a usually lonely road, tonight it was busy. Damn Francis' extensive guest list.

"Feliks, you know since he works in cosmetology, just had a bunch of these so he gave one to didn't like it so he gave it to me." As Arthur almost crossed the other side, a red light suddenly appeared ahead of him. He cursed, and ran it, almost crashing into a black BMW, who in return accompanied a rather loud honked with of string of German curses. Wonder who that could be. Arthur continued on his angry way until they made it to Francis' large mansion and parked on the lawn.

"Huh. That's awfully nice of Toris and Feliks," Arthur mumbled as he turned off the ignition. Alfred nodded and got out of the car, walking to the other side so he could open the door for Arthur. The Brit smiled and kissed him quickly, walking side by side to the entrance of Francis' castle. Alfred looked at the immense font before knocking. When he did, Francis threw opened the door, his tux so white it blinded the two guests and his smile so big it covered most of his face. A pastel pink rose rested in his chest pocket.

"Welcome you two! Alfred you look stunning, as usual! The attire compliments your eyes~," Francis purred, snapping his head towards Arthur's direction when he heard a low grunt. "Oh Arthur! I'm surprised you're his guest, let alone that he's still with you. I thought you would have run him off with that nasty cooking of yours."

"Nice inheritance, frog. What's next? Your dead uncle is going to leave you with a decent job?" Arthur shot back, refusing to be out done.

"I'll have you know being a official stylist for the majority of the American one percenters is a job!"

"My god, telling a rich bratty teenager that black leggings will look better with her jean chanel tiger jacket is not a job! They only hired you because you're French anyway!"

Francis huffed and crossed his arms. "One, that's a leather jacket produced by gucci you idiot. Two, that jacket is horrendous. Three, you're just jealous!"

"I still can't believe this is the only way you guys get along." Alfred replied, as he walked passed them. Standing there and watching them fight is very amusing but also very tiring. He looked around the ball room and headed for the table full of entrees, appetizers, and snacks.

Francis sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Listen Arthur, I'm going to hit on some very beautiful people. If you need anything, just ask Feliciano, he helped plan this party." Arthur clenched his fist and walked away. He didn't even want to come in the first place.

At these parties, Arthur felt out of play. He didn't really have a group to talk to besides maybe Rodrich or Kiku. Matthew was a good choice if he actually remembered the Canadian. He sighed and strolled over to Kiku, who was just sipping punch and assessing the guests in a normal coloured tuxedo. In a couple of seconds, the two were mingling contently about their careers and the party, while occasionally throwing lowkey shade. Alfred, on the other side of the ballroom, was a natural. He was happily chatting things up with Feliciano and Gilbert. Lovino sulked behind his brother, snapping at the trio in a harsher way than usual. After calling Gilbert a bumbling bitching bastard bimbo, the older Italian stormed off.

Alfred rubbed his neck and looked at Feliciano. "What's Luigi's problem?"

Feliciano's trademark smile quickly fell. His eyes darkened, not matching the dark blue suit he was in. "Ve~ Well... honestly I shouldn't even tell you guys…."

"Kesekesekese! Don't be ridiculous it is my duty to know the problems of my future brother in law's brother!" Gilbert yelled out loudly. Gilbert being Gilbert was dressed in a nice flannel shirt and jeans.

Alfred shamelessly shrugged. "I'm just nosey but I won't tell."

Feliciano sighed and looked at his friends from closed eyes. "His relationship problems with Toni have gotten worse. Antonio said he'd go to the game room to let go and play poker with Francis-"

"Without the awesome me?! Ha, that's rich! He's probably crying in a corner!" Gil shot back, in pure disbelief his friends would hang out with him. Alfred chuckled and nodded in agreement. Those three were basically inseparable.

"Maybe it's the stress. I'm not sure…" Feli looked down and shifted his weight. "To be fair things haven't been right as rain with Luddy but then again who doesn't have problems?" Feliciano looked wistfully at Ludwig, who was on the other side of the ballroom, talking to Roderich and Basch. "How about you Alfred?" He mumbled, have there and have over at Ludwig's side.

Alfred quickly felt uncomfortable at the sudden shift in conversation.

"Greateverything'sjustpeachy." It was biggest (and fastest) lie he had ever told and the biggest one he would come to regret. He heard a ping coming from his pocket and checked his notification. He sighed at the familiar green speech bubble showing up on his screen. He made an effort to not divert attention to himself, which was easy since Gilbert had gone and started to spew out a speech about how awesome he was Feliciano was in pure awe. As he walked away, Arthur opened the message.

 _We need to talk. Meet me outside._

Arthur was pissed off. He had torn himself away from the conversation with Kiku because he wanted to go home and it was getting very later. He had looked around everywhere and couldn't find his lover. To make things worse, the host of this horrible shindig was nowhere to be found. Considering all that was happening, the man was worried. The Brit angrily stormed upstairs, knowing no one would care if they saw him. As he approached the corridor with all the rooms, he threw opened unlocked doors and picked the locks on locked ones. When he made it just outside Francis' room he froze.

He remembered the time when he smelled a familiar scent coming from Francis and his posse the day they threw his papers to the ground. Arthur had a strong feeling that the perfume Alfred had was connected to his childhood frenemy. This was his chance to get a clue, maybe even some type of sick closure. The brit placed the paperclip within the knob, hand trembling violently. After a couple of misfires, he succeeded in unlocking the door and he slowly opened it. He found a counter filled with cologne, just like he wanted. But he also found a now shocked and shirtless wine holding frenchman leaning against said counter with a puffy eyed spaniard on the bed, who was currently giving Arthur the death stare.

So much for all those James Bond movies he invested so much time in.

 **So any ideas as to who the mysterious lover is?**


End file.
